


Feet on the Ground (Head Spinning 'Round)

by clexa



Series: The 100 Femslash February [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 'elle it seems like u gave up' well ur not wrong, F/F, Role Reversal, clarke and bellamy switched roles? subtly? idk lET ME LIVE, just pretend it's good ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 09:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3284795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clexa/pseuds/clexa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke Griffin isn't concerned with leading anyone. In fact, she's way more interested in following - that is, following the pretty brunette.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feet on the Ground (Head Spinning 'Round)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Day One - Role Reversal  
> This is my first work for the 100 Femslash February! It didn't go as planned but it's _done_.

Clarke is sitting on the ground of her solitary cell, hair falling in her face. She impatiently tosses the braid behind her head and is smudging the edges of her charcoal drawing when the door unexpectedly clangs open.

Her head snaps up as two guards enter. It hasn’t been long enough since the last time they allowed for a quick bathing and they don’t bother to allow her out to eat the way they do some of the prisoners, which means-

“No!” Clarke shrieks, “No! I’m not eighteen yet! You can’t take me!”

She attempts to struggle from their grip, punches one in the face and darts out into the hall, pausing confusedly. The rest of the prisoners are being let out, too, neatly escorted out of their cells with shared looks of excitement and apprehension.

Clarke’s distraction gives the guards time to reach her. She resumes her struggle, probably breaking one’s nose before a sharp voice commands, “Enough!”

“Mom?” Clarke spins away from the guards.

Her mother stands before her, surveying her grimly. She has more wrinkles than Clarke remembers, her hair showing signs of gray. She’s still wearing her wedding ring, Clarke notices. It makes her angry – she still remembers the day her father was floated and her mother did nothing to stop it.

Abby steps in for a hug and Clarke dodges it. Her frown deepens.

“What’s going on?” Clarke asks, “Why are they letting us all go? Are they floating everyone?”

Abby shake her head, eyes brightening.

“No Clarke, you’re going to Earth. They’re sending you to Earth!”

Clarke’s brow furrows and she crosses her arms.

“So you’re sending me to die, just like you did to dad.”

A slim brunette is ushered by them then, and Clarke steps aside hastily. She makes eye contact with the girl, who is fiercely beautiful in the strong set of her jaw and her sparking eyes. They share a brief grimace before the other girl is led away.

 “-not fair, Clarke,” Abby’s saying, “I couldn’t have gone against the law. This isn’t a death sentence. It’s a chance for you to live.”

Clarke scoffs.

“If we make it to the ground and don’t die of radiation.”

She turns to the guards, expecting to be led away. Instead they knock her out with a tranquilizer. Clarke slumps between the two men. She can hear her mother speaking distantly, as if through thick glass.

“We all make choices, Clarke. I’m going to have to live with mine.”

**\- • -**

Clarke wakes with a literal jolt. She’s strapped into a harness against a wall, and without it she’d doubtlessly be floating like the boys drifting by her.

“Stop that or you’re going to get yourselves killed,” snaps a voice to her left. Clarke cranes her neck to get a look at the boy next to her.

His clipped fingernails are digging in sharply to his harness. He’s tall enough that even in zero-gravity the toes of his heavy boots touch the floor. Clarke is struck by the sudden revelation that they’re off the Ark, hurtling through space to Earth. She feels giddy with the knowledge.

“Oh relax old man,” says the floating boy wearing a beanie, “Live a little! We’re off the Ark – what are they gonna do?”

The boy next to her straightens his head from where it was thrown back against the wall, enough that Clarke can see he’s really a man, albeit young, but still years ahead of the rest of them. Old enough that he would have been floated for his crimes.

“Exactly nothing,” he spits back, “So if you idiots want to get killed on impact, I won’t stop you.”

The other boy huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes, and drifts to Clarke.

“Whadya say?” he asks, “Wanna take a little spacewalk?”

Clarke grins in delight and is about to unstrap when the craft jolts again.

“Don’t” the boy to her left warns. He cranes his neck to look at her with his dark eyes.

“If you’re not strapped in things are going to get rough,” he tells her, and there’s enough wisdom in his face that Clarke stops herself.

Beanie boy huffs and drifts off.

The craft they’re in starts to bounce more, becoming increasingly rough.

“Everyone had better be strapped in,” the boy bellows, letting it echo around the ship. If Clarke strains she can see more kids in harnesses, arranged in twos around the circular interior. They all seem to heed the man’s words, clutching at the straps holding them. There’s still empty ones, the places where the floating boys belong.

They haven’t listened; still drifting around the cabin. The boy with the beanie has anchored himself to an empty harness with one hand, turned toward a girl who’s rolling her eyes. Clarke squints and – yes that’s the girl that had gone by her earlier.

They make eye contact just as the craft veers sharply and gravity returns. The floating boys are tossed in the craft, but Clarke can’t tell where or how they are because the rest of the kids have started to speak loudly with worry.

Beanie boy looks shaken but he held onto the harness he’s now strapping himself into, looking pale. The girl next to him smirks.

The guy next to Clarke whispers “Idiot.”

Clarke is about to agree and thank him for stopping her when they’re jarred again.

Before they had been moving relatively easily, but now it’s bumpy. The lights in the cabin cease abruptly, cutting off a message from Jaha that had been looping since Clarke awoke. The craft is filled with shouts.

Suddenly they plunge down. Clarke is jarred back against her seat and her dangling legs smack the wall with enough force to rattle her. In the dark, a body goes careening by her.

There’s a final shudder and then the ship slams down so hard Clarke feels in it her teeth. She tentatively kicks a leg out in the near dark and fumbles for the latches holding her in. Clarke’s hands are stopped by a pair much larger, and she can see the boy from next to her in the dim glow of the emergency lights. He unstraps Clarke and she drops to the floor of the ship, feeling quite wobbly.

“Looks like we’re on Earth,” she says brightly to him, and he nods grimly.

He pushes her along with him, down a ladder she hadn’t noticed until they’re standing on the lowest level of the ship where dozens of other teenagers have gathered, whispering in huddles.

The boy pushes to the front of the ship and Clarke follows in the wake of his tall form. The brunette girl is standing by the door, eyeing it critically.

“Octavia,” he says, hugging her from behind.

“Bell!” she cries, turning to embrace him.

Clarke watches them. The boy has picked her up off the ground slightly and heaves a sigh.

“You’re bigger than the last time I saw you,” he tells her, setting her down.

Octavia catches Clarke’s eye over his shoulder and rolls her own. Clarke smiles.

The little reunion has gathered attention.

“Isn’t that Octavia Blake?” one boy shouts, “The second child who lived under the floor?”

It sounds uncannily like Beanie boy.

Octavia hisses at the jeers from the crowd and disentangles herself from the boy to lunge at them.

“Hey,” the boy says, gripping her arm. They share a look and Octavia rolls her eyes again.

“You don’t have to be such a big brother, Bellamy,” she says, but Clarke can hear the affection in her tone. So siblings, then.

Clarke had heard murmurs of the girl in the floor but she hadn’t known it was true.

The teenagers behind her are shuffling around, knocking into each other. There are more whispers, and the girl behind her pushes at Clarke.

Clarke heaves a sigh.

“Are we going to open these doors or what?” she asks. The other kids cheer.

Bellamy turns to face her, aghast.

“Why would we do that? We don’t know if it’s safe.”

Clarke shrugs.

“Would you rather die in this rust bucket?” she asks. There are a couple hoots of agreement.

Not waiting for an argument, she strides to the cranks and strains to undo it. Slowly, the door falls down. Clarke holds her breath and steps onto the ramp it’s created.

She turns to Octavia, admiring the way the girl watches the world fiercely.

“Wanna go first?” she asks, a brow raised.

Octavia curls her lips in a grin and steps past Clarke, much to Bellamy’s dismay.

“Wait, O!” he cries.

Octavia flips him the bird over her shoulder and jumps off the plank into the grass. She takes a cautious step and then turns to face Clarke.

“We’re back bitches!” she hollers.

The teens pour out of the ship much to Bellamy’s protests. Clarke only has eyes for Octavia. She sidles up to the brunette.

“Go exploring with me?” she whispers in Octavia’s ear.

Octavia shivers and turns her sharp eyes on Clarke, breathing a “Yes” back.

Clarke smiles in victory and leads her into the woods. Bellamy has enough kids to police.

**\- • -**

They’re wandering aimlessly, close enough that their hips bump. Octavia entangled their fingers a few miles back, and they feel warm together, alive on Earth. Clarke feels giddy with it.

Octavia suddenly shouts and points in the distance. Something is flickering brightly. Clarke is tugged along and they hold hands still as they run.

It’s a brook, maybe a lake, Clarke doesn’t know, but it’s blue and gorgeous and so surreal. They’re on _Earth_.

 Clarke turns to Octavia, gazing at her admiringly the way the other girl watches the water. She drops their hands to cup Octavia’s face, who stares at her daringly.

Clarke leans in and kisses her, hard. Their fingers are tangled in each other’s hair, Octavia’s undoing Clarke’s braid. Octavia backs her into a tree and closes in on her neck. With her throat tipped back, Clarke drops her hands from Octavia’s hair and into her coverall jumpsuit, down to the stretch of her back under her cropped tank.

Octavia is pushing Clarke’s jacket off and Clarke feels too warm. She pushes Octavia’s coveralls off her shoulders and lets Octavia sneak her fingers up her long sleeve shirt.

Octavia pulls back then and studies Clarke before smiling wolfishly. She toes off her boots and shouts, “Race you to the water.”

Clarke yips and struggles out of her clothes, rather preoccupied by the sight of Octavia.

“Cheater!” she yells and Octavia turns to smirk, sauntering into the water in her tank and panties. Clarke strips and runs after her, sloshing into the clear water.

She flings herself at Octavia, who lets herself be caught easily. Clarke kisses her again, letting her fingers drift across Octavia’s body like a current. Octavia’s fingers unknot her curls in the water as she presses closer.

Clarke could stay like that forever, but Octavia pulls back too soon for her liking. With a start, Clarke realizes it’s becoming dark out.

“We should get back,” Octavia says reluctantly. “Bell’s going to be pissed.”

Clarke nods, kissing her again before stepping from the water.

They struggle into their clothes with their wet limbs and pruny fingers. Octavia laughs at Clarke’s tight jeans and Clarke flicks her wet hair in her direction.

When they’re finally both dressed they walk through the woods together, giggling and stopping to kiss against trees.

Arriving back at camp takes a while – they get turned around with the distraction the other poses – and when they return, Bellamy is pacing around the ship.

“Where have you been?” he explodes as he spots them. “It’s not safe out there!”

“We can do whatever we want here,” Clarke tells him. “It was you reminding us the Ark isn’t here anymore, wasn’t it?”

Bellamy frowns at her and turns to bark orders at the rest of the kids.

“No leaving camp without permission. We have no idea how dangerous it is down here and we have no weapons.” Some of the kids scoff to themselves but nod in acknowledgment. Clarke raises her brows at Octavia, who shrugs back.

Satisfied with his directions, he faces them again.

“I’ve got us a tent, O” he says. “Your friend can probably get something together.” He eyes Clarke with derision.

“I think I’ll share with Clarke,” Octavia snaps back. She clutches Clarke’s hand and pulls her toward the dropship where bits of parachute have been salvaged.

“You can share with your brother, Octavia,” Clarke says.

Octavia rolls her eyes.

“Don’t make me change my mind,” she warns.

Clarke raises her hands in defense and smiles at Octavia, who grins back.

Clarke likes Earth.


End file.
